


Stars Fading, But I Linger On Dear

by thealpacalypse



Category: Merlí (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, I have no excuse other than 'I really wanna see them all in tuxes and prom dresses', M/M, School Dances, bit of an AU, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealpacalypse/pseuds/thealpacalypse
Summary: There's a school dance at Instituto Àngel Guimerà - a time for cheesy declarations of love, awkward first dates, and everyone pairing up like in a stupid high school movie. Bruno is not in the mood. He's probably the only one going alone, and honestly, what's the point of living a stupid teen rom com chliché when his boyfriend is hundreds of kilometers apart from him?But - like usually in these cliché situations - the night turns out surprisingly fun, in a lot of surprising ways...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: This is going to be cheesy, and it probably won't make much sense, because I don't even know if they have these kind of school dances in Spain? Well, factual accuracy can't stop me from writing a super cliché prom fic. 
> 
> I have no idea yet where this is going to go, or how long it's going to be, but I think it's time that we fill the Merlí tag with some fic! I also hope that this one is silly enough that people maybe lose their shyness of posting fic for this amazing show, because the pressure and expectations aren't that high anymore? idk I'm just having fun with some adorable boys and girls in nice dresses and suits, and I'm sharing it in case anyone else enjoys that kinda thing as well.
> 
> this is not beta'd, and english isn't my first language, so please forgive me if there are mistakes. also, it feels a little weird to write in a language that's not the language of the characters, I'm a bit afraid that it's easier to write them ooc. we'll see, I guess. 
> 
> the title is from the song "Dream A Little Dream Of Me".
> 
> oh, one last thing: don't be surprised when the characters end up being more queer than they are in the source material. that always happens with my fic, can't help it.
> 
> okay have fun!

„School dances suck,“ Bruno pouts.

 

He looks so ridiculous doing it that Tània has to laugh. “Don’t be silly, I know you love dancing,” she smiles, sitting down next to Bruno on the stairs in the school hallway.

 

Bruno huffs and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, sure, but this is different. Everybody pairs up and it’s all so cheesy. Suddenly everyone is like, _soooo in love_ –” His last few words are dripping with sarcasm, but Tània is having none of his pessimism today, so she interrupts him.

 

“Shut up,” she says and gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Anyway, you’re ‘soooo in love’ as well, so you’re not allowed to complain.”

 

Bruno looks startled. “Me, in love?” He sounds alarmed, staring at Tània wide-eyed. But then he catches himself. “Oh yeah, of course I am. But it’s different, because Nicola can’t be here for the dance, and that’s why it sucks.”

 

Tània twists her mouth and frowns. “Okay, you’re right,” she nods. Then she adds thoughtfully, “I’d go with you, but I’m already going with Marc.”

 

“I know,” Bruno nods and rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t stop talking about it.”

 

Tània’s whole face lights up with glee. “Really?”

 

Bruno can’t help but smile. “Really.”

 

It makes Tània squeak excitedly, and Bruno gives her a couple of moments to calm down again. Then he says, “So, what am I going to do? I already asked Oliver to go with me, but Iván had asked him first.”

 

Tània’s eyes grow wide. “Oliver and Iván, what?”

 

“They go as friends,” Bruno adds.

 

Tània seems a little disappointed. But not for long, because she seems to have an idea. “Oh!” she exclaims way too loudly. At least two people in the corridor turn around to stare at her, but she doesn’t seem to notice, she’s too excited. “You should ask Pol!”

 

Bruno’s breath hitches. He feels weirdly caught, even though he hasn’t done anything. Well, not anything Tània doesn’t already know about. “Pol?” he asks weakly.

 

Tània nods enthusiastically. “Sure! I mean, didn’t you two… you know, again?”

 

Bruno bites his tongue and shakes his head. “No, Tània, that’s just sex. That’s not –”

 

He doesn’t want to say what exactly the thing with Pol and him isn’t, but he doesn’t have to anyway, because Tània interrupts him again.

 

“Well I think you should at least ask. You’re friends, right? People can go to school dances with their friends! Look, Oliver and Iván do that, too, you said so! And then you can, you know, just see what happens.” She smirks knowingly.

 

Bruno just huffs and shrugs. Obviously he won’t ask Pol, that’s stupid. But if he says that to Tània’s face, they will end up discussing in detail why this is a bad idea, and… Bruno would rather not. He tries to think of a way to distract Tània, but turns out he doesn’t even have to because she’s already moving on.

 

“Anyway,” she grins happily, “has Marc mentioned what he’s going to wear? Because I got at least three different dresses to choose from and I really want our outfits to match.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Man, this school dance is going to suck,” Gerard says to the group of boys sitting outside on the school grounds.

 

Oliver raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asks, curiously.

 

Gerard throws his backpack to the ground and sits down next to it, shrugging his shoulders in frustration. “I don’t know. It’s just… dancing is stupid, and I don’t even want to go.”

 

“Dude,” Pol exclaims. “Did Oksana say no when you asked her?”

 

Gerard groans in agreement.

 

So far, Bruno didn’t want to get involved in this conversation, but Gerard looks really miserable, so he carefully asks, “is everything okay between the two of you?”

 

Gerard shrugs again, not looking at anyone. “I think so,” he says slowly. “She says it has nothing to do with me. It’s a girl thing apparently.”

 

“Oh?” asks Ivan. He looks at Gerard curiously, waiting for an explanation.

 

“Yeah,” Gerard finally says, “it has something to do with Berta going alone. She said Berta and her are going to be independent women for that patriarchal event.”

 

Everybody laughs, except for Gerard who still looks a bit sour.

 

“Hashtag girl power!” Marc exclaims, before going back to roaring with laughter.

 

Pol just grins quietly, then punches Bruno in the shoulder. “Seems like they paid too much attention in your father’s classes,” he says and winks at Bruno.

 

Bruno swallows, then remembers to grin back before he says, “My dad will be happy to hear that.”

 

When the laughter dies down a little, Gerard still looks a little upset, and Oliver seems to have pity, so he leans toward Gerard and suggests, “Hey, why don’t you go with one of us?”

 

Gerard gives him an irritated look, so Oliver hurries to explain, “look, you can go to a school dance with a friend! Ivan and me are going together.”

 

“Oh, yeah!” Marc suddenly chimes in, “why don’t you go with Bruno? He doesn’t have a date either, right, Bruno?”

 

Tània must have told him, and somehow, Bruno is a little angry because of that. He turns around to Gerard, opens his mouth and tries to think of something to say.

 

He doesn’t even have to though, because Gerard is already looking at Bruno with big eyes, shaking his head. “So- sorry Bruno,” he stammers nervously. “It’s not that – I mean, it’s just – If I can’t go with my girlfriend, I’m not sure if I want to go at all.”

 

Bruno snickers. “It’s alright,” he reassures Gerard, “you’re not really my type anyway.” He winks at Gerard and only just manages to not look at Pol.

 

The school bell rings and they all get up to go back to class.

 

Bruno falls behind when his phone buzzes with a text from Tània. “Prom shopping after school? xo" it reads. Bruno grins and is just about to reply when he looks up and notices that Pol is waiting up for him. The others are already gone.

 

He grins at Pol and puts his phone in his pocket. It’s easy to be cocky and confident around Pol, even though Bruno never feels like that on the inside – but it’s what Pol expects, and even though it’s probably pathetic, trying to live up to Pol’s expectations has become second nature to Bruno.

 

“Poor Geri,” Bruno grins and falls into step with Pol while they’re heading back to the school building. “Getting dumped by his girlfriend for the hottest girl in school.”

 

Pol laughs, a sharp, sudden noise full of glee. “Says the guy who can’t even get a date himself.”

 

“Shut up!” Bruno protests with a fake pout. “What about you?”

 

And it was supposed to sound teasing, like _‘ha, I bet you don’t even have a date yourself’_ , but somehow Bruno begins to feel anxious, because what if Pol thinks Bruno wants to ask him to go together? Which is something Bruno definitely doesn’t want to happen; he has already made a list in his head of all the reasons why that’s a bad idea. But what if Pol reads this situation the wrong way and things get weird? The last thing Bruno wants is for things to get weird between Pol and him.

 

To make Bruno’s worries even worse, Pol stays awfully quiet for a long moment. Then finally, he sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know, man. I might not go. I probably have to work.”

 

Bruno’s face falls. “Oh?” he asks. He really hopes he doesn’t sound as disappointed as he feels. “Too bad, man.”

 

They’ve reached their classroom door, and for a moment they stop there, standing around awkwardly, not saying a word. Then their eyes meet by accident, only for a split second. Bruno can’t read Pol’s expression, he never can, and then Pol is already looking somewhere else.

 

“Alright, ready for _la Coralina_?” Bruno tries cheerfully and opens the classroom door for Pol.

 

Pol laughs shortly. It sounds nothing like the gleeful laugh from before and something in Bruno’s chest tightens when he hears it.

 

Then they walk into class, Bruno just behind Pol. He sits down without another word and stares straight ahead, even though he can feel Tània’s eyes on him.

 

Inside, he quietly curses himself for caring so much.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a fair warning: this might head into the direction of OskanaxBerta, just because DAMN they got chemistry and I need some queer ladies in this as well. 
> 
> also, in case anyone was wondering why I haven't mentioned Joan and Monica so far: it's just that I don't really know how to feel about them at the moment? I haven't seen the full new episode yet, but the whole jealousy thing seems to get really out of hand, and that's creepy, and i just don't how to write that relationship right now. They might appear later in the fic, when I have a better idea of what's going on there.
> 
> I hope you like this so far; if you have comments, wishes or requests, don't be shy to contact me here or on tumblr: thealpacalypse.tumblr.com I'm always happy to talk about this show, and prompts are more than welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry that it took a while for me to update this, I was working on something else. But that's done now, so I can focus on this, yay!
> 
> this is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry, but the next one is going to be more interesting, I promise! 
> 
> I hope you like it, feel free to leave comments of any kind, it motivates me! :D

After classes, Tània waits next to Bruno’s desk while he’s packing together his things.

 

“So, ready to go shopping for the dance?” she asks excitedly, bobbing up and down.

 

Bruno throws his pen into his bag, slings the bag over his shoulder, and only then looks up at his friend. “Yeah, about that,” he begins with a sly grin on his face, “am I your token gay friend now that you take shopping? Isn’t Oliver free today?”

 

Tània tsks. “You’re being mean again,” she tells him. “Besides, your father has put me up to it. He told me your suit is old and ugly and you need a new one.”

 

“My father?” Bruno scoffs. He has had the discussion with Merlí about the new suit already twice this week. Bruno had insisted that his current suit was still fine, while Merlí had argued he wasn’t going to impress anyone with that old rag. As if Bruno was desperate to impress anyone at that dance. “That old man really needs to learn to mind his own business.”

 

Tània doesn’t reply to that, just keeps on waiting with eager anticipation; and Merlí is actually right: Bruno really needs a new suit.

 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Is the nosey bastard at least going to pay for it?”

 

Tània laughs. “He said you were going to ask that.”

 

“And?” Bruno raises both eyebrows.

 

Tània points at Bruno’s backpack. “He just said to check the small pocket of your bag.”

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Bruno puts his back down on a table and checks the pockets – and swears under his breath when he actually finds a couple of bank notes in there, enough to buy a nice suit. “Unbelievable,” he mutters. After such a long time of living with his dad, he really should begin to understand him. He never does.

  
“Let’s go,” he sighs and links arms with Tània.

 

They have a good time, really. Tània knows pretty much exactly what she’s looking for, and apparently, she also has a pretty solid idea of what Bruno should be looking for – in a suit that is, although she also has various opinions about different parts of his life.

 

Especially when it comes to his love life.

 

“Have you asked Pol yet?” she asks from the other side of the curtain of the changing cubicle.

 

Bruno rolls his eyes even though she can’t see him. “He’s not even going!” he shouts, maybe a little louder than absolutely necessary.

 

Tània puts her head through the curtain. She looks disappointed. “Really? But you did ask him?”

 

Bruno sighs. “Why are you so obsessed about me asking Pol out? Why do you always want to talk about him?”

 

Tània smiles innocently. “I’m interested in your life!” she explains with a cheerful tone in her voice.

 

It costs Bruno a lot not to mutter, _“everyone seems to be fucking interested in my life.”_

 

Instead he asks, “Why don’t you ever ask about Nicola then?”

 

Tània vanishes behind the curtains again and Bruno can hear the sound of a zipper closing. Finally she says, “Well, because I don’t even know him. And you never see him, so there can be no juicy news about you and him anyway.”

 

Bruno doesn’t reply to that. He doesn’t know what to say, because Tània is right, they never see each other, and Skype calls don’t really count.

 

Then Tània steps out of the cubicle in a frilly blue dress that looks absolutely stunning on her.

 

“Wow,” Bruno exhales and stares at her.

 

Tània herself seems pretty happy with it. “Good?” she asks giddily, twirling around a bit so Bruno can get a better look.

 

He smiles. “Perfect.”

 

She squeals happily and pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s going to be soooo great!!!” she exclaims.

 

And honestly, Bruno doesn’t think so at all, he can’t see how this dance is going to be any fun for him – but Tània seems so excited and happy that Bruno can’t bring himself to disagree.

 

They buy the dress and then Tània drags him to find the perfect suit. And Bruno has to admit: She has excellent taste and a good eye. All of the suits she points out to him are really classy, not too extravagant, but not too boring either; her favourite becomes his favourite immediately, and the second he sees himself in the mirror after he put it on, he knows that’s the one he’s going to buy.

 

“Oooh, look at the gentleman!” Tània cheers when he presents himself to her.

 

Bruno can’t help but smile. Sure, the dance is going to be boring and depressing and pointless for him, but at least he’ll look amazing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psa: this story is 100% free of gross Pol/Miriam sex. i will pretend like nothing ever happened between them because honestly that's the way it should have been.

Of course Merlí makes a lesson out of the school dance; he always does. Something about initiation rites and awakening adulthood and other embarrassing stuff no one should hear out of their father’s mouth, especially not in a classroom, but of course Merlí doesn’t care. There’s some interesting stuff in there as well, about Freud and his theories on human sexuality, but Bruno has a hard time concentrating on it today.

 

It’s because Pol is especially vocal again in class, arguing with Merlí, asking questions and making remarks on the Oedipus complex and something about how society limits sexuality by normalising a certain kind and censoring and punishing everything else.

 

Bruno should probably listen to all of it, but there’s something about Pol talking passionately about things that makes Bruno think of all the reasons why he fell for Pol in the first place, and it’s just so hard to turn that off.

 

For the rest of the class, Bruno tries to distract himself from all those thoughts about Pol. He tries so hard that, by the end of it, he’s completely startled when Pol walks over to his desk and grins at him.

 

“What?” Bruno says, more harshly than intended.

 

Pol’s face falls a little and he raises his eyebrows. “What’s up with you?”

 

Bruno shakes off the weirdness and tension and shrugs. “I… sorry, it’s all good. What did you want?”

 

It doesn’t seem to work the way he intended, because Pol still stares at him, irritation visible in his eyes. “What did I want?” he echoes. “Nothing, I just wanted to chat.”

 

It’s still weird. Bruno is still tense. This sucks.

 

Bruno grabs his stuff, shoves it in his bag, and then takes a deep breath before he trusts himself to say, “yeah, of course. Sorry. What did you want to talk about?”

 

He starts walking out of the classroom and waits for Pol to fall into step with him, but it takes a couple of moments before he hears Pol even starting to move. When Pol is finally next to him and they walk along the hallway, he still looks at Bruno in that way that makes Bruno’s skin crawl. It makes him nervous, and Pol doesn’t stop.

 

“What?” Bruno asks, desperately hoping they can finally go back to talking like they usually do.

 

Thankfully, Pol seems to think the same. “Oh well…” he says, and finally there’s his grin back again, it makes Bruno almost sigh with relief, “It’s just funny that Merlí’s classes always fit perfectly to what’s going on in our lives. Do you think he stalks us secretly?”

 

Bruno laughs, even though he doesn’t feel like it. His dad is certainly not his favourite topic to talk about, but it’s better than enduring the weirdness between Pol and him. So he asks, “What do you mean?”

 

Pol puts a hand on Bruno’s shoulder so they can walk more closely, then he leans towards Bruno and says quietly, “The Oedipus complex that Merlí mentioned – do you remember how you and I talked about Miriam?”

 

Bruno tries hard not to frown. “Iván’s mum?” he asks casually.

 

“Exactly,” Pol grins.

 

Of course. Bruno didn’t pay that much attention in class today, but he still knows about the Oedipus Complex. “Damn, Pol,” he mutters. “You fucked her, didn’t you.” It’s hard to swallow down all the ugly feelings that crawl up his throat all of a sudden.

 

Pol looks around the hallway, checking to see if anyone listens, then he comes even closer. “No. But fuck, man, I wish I had.”

 

A wave of relief rushes through Bruno. It’s not even about jealousy, he decides, but about the fact that sex between a student and the mother of a fellow student is just very disturbing. “So?” he asks, already way more comfortable with this conversation.

 

Pol lets go of him, but continues to walk really close to Bruno. “So, is your dad trying to psycho-analyse me for trying to bang a hot mum?”

 

Because he doesn’t know what to say, Bruno just laughs. To his relief, Pol seems to be okay with that as an answer, and it gives Bruno a little time to come up with anything else.

 

Finally, he shrugs and says, “I don’t know, man, I think Freud was full of shit. Wasn’t he the one who also said that everyone is actually bisexual? Well, I’m not seeing myself trying to fuck any women anytime soon.”

 

There’s a weird look on Pol’s face, just for a split second, before Pol laughs as well. “Well,” he says, “I’m sure Freud didn’t take into account that anyone could be as gay as you.”

 

It’s not a good comeback, not at all. Directly afterwards Pol changes the topic to English homework and other things, but Bruno can’t get into it anymore. He’s still stuck with the thought of Pol’s strange expression. Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind that Pol might actually be bisexual or something like that, but just like every other time, Bruno dismisses it.

 

It’s none of his business. Just because they fooled around once or twice, that doesn’t mean anything. Pol said so himself.

 

And anyway, Bruno has Nicola now, so it doesn’t even matter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends, here we are again with chapter 5! this time with special guest Joan who finally gets to be a part of this fic (for like 6 paragraphs), and with some sneaky texting during class. ;)
> 
> i spent a lot of time today plotting the next couple of chapters, which means I'm beginning to get a solid idea of where this is going, but if you still have any suggestions or ideas, please feel free to put them in the comments below or to talk to me on tumblr: [thealpacalypse.tumblr.com](http://thealpacalypse.tumblr.com)!

The closer the day of the dance gets, the harder it is to talk with anyone about anything else. It’s so annoying that Bruno is tempted to spend the lunch breaks with his father instead of his classmates, just to avoid it. But luckily, it doesn’t have to get that far – turns out that Bruno isn’t the only one who’s getting sick of that stupid dance.

 

“It’s all just dresses here and Berta there,” Gerard complains to Bruno, Joan and Pol. “Oksana never has time anymore, she’s always hanging around Berta, and I’m not allowed to complain because, I don’t know, something about the patriarchy.”

 

Bruno rolls his eyes, Pol snickers. Joan stays quiet. He has been in a horrible mood since Monica broke up with him. At least now that Gerard’s relationship is going to shit, Joan doesn’t try to kill Gerard with his murderous glares anymore.

 

“I thought we didn’t want to talk about this anymore,” Bruno says. He’s trying to come up with a different topic for the four of them to talk about, but nothing comes to mind.

 

“Right,” Joan nods. “I’m not even going.”

 

“Yeah, me neither,” Pol replies and lights his cigarette. Bruno tries hard not to judge. He’s not a fan of that whole smoking thing, but it’s none of his business.

 

Pol casually breathes out the smoke from the corner of his mouth – he probably thinks it looks cooler that way – then turns to Bruno. “What about you?” he asks, giving Bruno a sideways look. “Have you made up your mind yet?”

 

Bruno huffs. “I don’t know, man,” he sighs. “I got a brand-new suit now, so I guess I have to.”

 

“Yeah,” Pol nods. He takes another drag of his cigarette.

 

Then he suddenly turns to Gerard and asks, “and you, Geri?” He grins slyly, all teeth and cocky charm, the way Bruno hates.

 

Only because Bruno turns away from Pol to watch Gerard instead, he notices how Gerard’s eyes flicker to Joan for a second before Gerard nervously replies, “I don’t know either.”

 

Somehow that’s all the patience that Joan has got for this topic, because he suddenly gets up. “I’m sick of this,” he mutters, the only explanation he gives before he walks away.

 

It makes Gerard breathe out in relief. “Man, I’m so glad he’s gone. I need to talk to you two about something.” He’s somehow still nervous though.

 

Bruno doesn’t trust this. “Is this still about the dance?” he asks. “Because I swear to God if it is –“

 

“It is,” Gerard interrupts him, “but it’s a real problem, okay? I couldn’t say it in front of Joan, but fuck, Monica asked me if I wanted to be her date for the dance.”

 

Bruno groans and lets himself fall back to lie on the grass. Will this romance and drama ever stop? He can’t wait until that stupid dance is all over.

 

Pol seems amused though. “Monica?” he chuckles. “Fuck, didn’t she just break up with Joan a couple of days ago though?”

 

Gerard’s voice sounds whiny. “Yeah…”

 

Pol continues. “And aren’t you still with Oksana?” He sounds far too entertained by all this.

 

Gerard makes a noise of frustration before he quietly admits, “I think she wants to break up with me. It has something to do with Berta, probably.”

 

That’s when Pol breaks out into breathless laughter. “Dude,” he wheezes, “that is fucked up.”

 

Gerard groans a little more, Pol laughs a little more, and Bruno is getting more and more frustrated with all of this, until Pol finally says, “Geri, man, we all know you still like Monica. And Joan said so himself, he won’t even be there. Go and get her, tiger!”

 

Then, finally, the bell rings and lunch break is over. Sure, they have Latin after the break, but Bruno is much more looking forward to that than to another minute of this stupid conversation.

 

He thinks he has finally escaped the dance conversation hell, but then two minutes into the class, his phone vibrates. It’s a text from Pol.

 

He’s not too eager to read it, his phone got taken away too many times in the last few months because he was texting in class. But when he gives Pol a questioning look, Pol just smirks at him and nods towards Bruno’s phone.

 

So Bruno carefully looks around if anyone is noticing before he reads the text.

 

“why are you so touchy about this whole dance thing?” it says.

 

Goddamnit, can’t Bruno have his peace from this just once?! He’s already about to put his phone back into his pocket, but then he catches Pol’s eyes.

 

And Pol doesn’t look like he wants to tease him, not while he doesn’t realize yet that Bruno is looking back at him. He looks deep in thought, frowning, and like he really cares.

 

It makes Bruno shudder. A whole flood of unwanted thoughts rolls over his brain. _Nicola_ , he immediately has to remind himself again, _I’m with Nicola now_.

 

He hesitates for a moment before he types his reply.

 

“it’s nothing, I just miss Nicola. he should be there” He puts a sad emoji at the end, but then deletes it again. It seems like too much.

 

Pol frowns even more when he reads the message. His reply is there only seconds later.

 

“yeah, shitty of him that he’s not coming all the way from rome ;)”

 

Bruno doesn’t get the point of this. What is it even supposed to mean? Especially the smiley face, because Pol is definitely not smiling when Bruno looks up from his phone.

 

He’s so angry and this is so pointless. All of this. Before he can think it through, he hits send on his reply.

 

“shut up, you won’t be there either”

 

He regrets that one immediately. Too late.

 

Pol glances at him, then his eyes dart to the front where Mireia suddenly raises her voice. Bruno follows his look and sees that Mireia is watching them closely. He immediately drops his phone into his lap and picks up his pen again, pretending to write.

 

It takes a couple of minutes before he dares to look at his phone again.

 

There are two more messages from Pol.

 

Bruno’s heart skips a beat. A couple of beats probably.

 

“would you like me to come”

 

and

 

“i bet I could make it fun for you”

 

Bruno has no idea how to reply to that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry friends, this is a short chapter, but I thought after yesterday's episode, we all need something sweet: :3
> 
> just so you're aware, this contains some alcohol mentions, and for this chapter and the next ones, various characters will be tipsy or even drunk. 
> 
> okay cool, enjoy!

Bruno is sitting on the couch in his suit, staring at his phone.

 

He texted Tània before, because he was in a bad mood and wanted to talk to someone, but she didn’t reply. He guesses she’s probably busy getting ready. Or already with Marc. That last thought makes Bruno smile despite himself – Tània and Marc are like adorable little puppies around each other, and he’s happy for his friends. They deserve each other.

 

Iván and Oliver promised to pick him up, but they’re running late.

 

Bruno scrolls through his messages, up and down, and up again. He considers sending another text to Oliver to ask when they’ll be here, or sending another one to Tània. He catches himself wanting to text Pol, but that’s not an option, so he throws the phone to the other end of the couch and stares at the wall instead.

 

When Oliver and Iván finally arrive ten minutes later, Bruno doesn’t even feel like going anymore. But then again, he never even wanted to go in the first place.

 

“You just want to be in a bad mood, don’t you?” Oliver asks when he looks him over. “How can you be so grumpy, idiot? We’re going to have a party, we’re going to get a little drunk, and you can spend the whole night with your friends! What more do you want?”

 

“Drunk?” Bruno raises an eyebrow. Of course alcohol isn’t allowed at the dance.

 

Iván laughs and pulls a bottle of sparkling wine out of a bag. “We have to drink this before we go, obviously,” he explains. There’s a mischievous look on his face. Bruno likes it.

 

“Come on,” Oliver says, throwing an arm around Bruno’s shoulder, “you stop being a grinch right now, and we’re going to have a great evening!”

 

He says it with such conviction that Bruno just has to smile. They’re all right of course. If he’s going to go, he might as well enjoy it, or at least try to.

 

“Alright, alright,” he grins, “I’ll bring some glasses, you open the bottle.”

 

It takes them just half an hour to finish the whole bottle. Bruno is usually pretty good at handling alcohol, but he always gets giddy and a little silly with sparkling wine.

 

“Gentlemen,” he announces theatrically, “I think the ball is waiting for us!”

 

And so they go – a little tipsy, their arms linked, with Oliver in the middle, and they even break out in song spontaneously once or twice on the way there.

 

By the time they arrive, Bruno is actually enjoying himself.

 

The room is decorated nicely, with pretty lights and golden stars and some glitter – the motto is something like Classic Hollywood, but no one really cares about the motto anyway, everything and everyone just looks beautiful and festive and nice.

 

A lot of their class mates are already here, standing at the tables on the side, gathering around the snack bar at the far end of the hall, but the dance floor is almost empty.

 

“We need to do something about that,” Oliver decides, and grabs both Bruno and Iván’s hand. “Let’s dance.”

 

Iván laughs and shakes his head, pulling back his hand. “Oh no, you two go. I got two left feet.”

 

“Not true,” Oliver protests, but he lets Iván go and pulls Bruno on the dance floor instead.

 

They dance and jump around to iconic 80’s songs, they sing along whenever they can, and Bruno doesn’t know if it has to do with them or if that’s just the night progressing, but soon the dance floor begins to fill with people.

 

Oliver leaves after a while to join Iván at the snack bar, but Bruno stays on the dance floor a little longer. What he’s doing can’t really be considered dancing in his opinion, but he’s having fun and he doesn’t care.

 

He observes Tània and Marc for a bit when they come in. Tània looks stunning in her dress, but a little nervous as well. Bruno decides that’s unnecessary when he notices the way Marc looks at her. The two are lovestruck fools and Bruno is sure they’ll both realize that soon enough. But for now, Bruno sees them sit down in a less crowded corner where they seem to chat. When he catches Tània’s look, he waves at her and gives her a thumbs-up. She beams at him in return.

 

Then there’s Oksana and Berta on the dance floor next to him. They’re giggling excitedly, Bruno is sure they’re not exactly sober all well, and they seem to have a great time.

 

Both Gerard and Monica are nowhere to be seen.

 

Bruno dances until his feet hurt, until he’s almost out of breath. Then he walks over to where the drinks are, grabs a bottle of water and is just about to take a sip – when suddenly, he sees a movement at the door out of the corner of his eyes. Like magnets, his eyes are drawn to it.

 

And there he is: Pol.

 

His face is only half-lit by the fairy lights, his expression impossible to read from afar. But even from here, Bruno can see that Pol’s suit fits him perfectly, and that he wears it like he has never worn anything else.

 

Pol is fucking beautiful, and Bruno needs to remind himself to breathe.


End file.
